


Burning the Idol

by Anonymous



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Child Abuse, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Grooming but not the kind for nice appearance, M/M, Sexual Abuse, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 07:14:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15680568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Auguste adores his little brother and is willing to do anything for him - except leave him alone.





	Burning the Idol

**Author's Note:**

> Basically this fic is what happens when I think to my paranoid self "but why was Auguste so doting?"  
> This is dedicated to all those who don't realize that we know absolutely nothing (0) about Auguste's true character.  
> Do not read if you find incest too gross or csa too triggering. Do not say I didn't warn you and send me tons of hateful comments expressing how offended you are.

Auguste was eighteen when he knew fully what he was and realized that his tiny seven year old brother could be led around by the nose.

He decided himself on playing the long game with Laurent since his preference was for somewhat older children and so endeared himself to his little brother by spoiling him rotten and playing games with him and riding around with him. Aleron let the two brothers have as much time together as possible because he believed it to be better than Laurent staying in the capital around his odd younger brother.

He managed to get Laurent very easily to trust him by keeping secrets with him because children love keeping secrets. He showed Laurent different little places in the palace where virtually no one goes, ancient alcoves and abandoned crypts and warned him not to tell anyone of their special hiding places  _ especially _ not father and Laurent eagerly agrees with eyes full of starry excitement. He teaches Laurent not to trust any strangers as well as warning him that if his tutors get 'presumptuous' with him to tell Auguste immediately and he would take care of it. 

He teaches Laurent to ride of course and on his eighth birthday, gives him his very own horse that Auguste tells Laurent he raised himself just for his baby brother and Laurent is so happy that he hugs Auguste around the neck and as he returned the hug, Auguste smugly noted that he wouldn't have to train Laurent to physically interact with him regularly.

Auguste gave Laurent all kinds of books and was very adamant that Laurent only let Aleron or Auguste choose the books he should read and by now, Laurent is so trusting in his brother that of course he agrees. In fact he seems to look forward to the books Auguste brings to him and even begs Auguste to let him memorize it to recite for Auguste later, desperate to please and impress his older brother. 

Oftentimes, they'll be seen in the library reading next to each other but in private, Laurent would simply sit in Auguste's lap and read separately or Laurent will read a book to Auguste while Auguste runs his hands through his brother's hair and compliments him on how well he reads the words but will also correct any mispronunciations he makes. 

If Laurent ever got especially miffed at Auguste's corrections, Auguste would simply tickle him by digging his fingers into his sides and the little crevices of his neck, fingers lingering like always because that's simply what his big brother's touches are like. Laurent’s never minded the lingering touches. They spread warmth and make his skin tingle and feel nice, and they're especially characteristic of his big brother who was warm and honest and pleasant all the time and who smiled at Laurent like he's the only person in the world.

Auguste was careful not to touch Laurent too much in public because who knows how quickly those rumors would fly though they still play pranks in the court and giggle with each other at their hidden jokes.

The courtiers murmured admiration of how well Auguste is with children.

The brothers grew closer as Auguste tells Laurent of his favorite foods and Laurent told his own in return and they agreed to always bring each other their favorite foods when the other wasn't feeling well. A secret pact between brothers. 

if ever Laurent was scolded by Aleron or one of his tutors, he would go crying to Auguste who would pick him up and hold him on his lap and promise Laurent that he would never reprimand him for anything because he was a perfect little prince  _ how could he do anything wrong? _

Auguste would brush away the tears from rounded cheeks and use his handkerchief to wipe the reddened nose and wet lips, wishing he could use his fingers to trace the pretty mouth instead. 

By the time Laurent reaches ten, Auguste has persuaded his father to agree to let Auguste take on most of Laurent's upbringing.

Auguste takes Laurent riding in the countryside and they race until they get far enough away from the palace that no one will come across them and Auguste leads them to a secret place far away from the road and through the forest, there is a waterfall going into a shallow pool. 

So naturally, Auguste asks if Laurent wants to go swimming, and Laurent happily agrees because it's hot and they've been riding, sweat dripping down both of their faces and dampening their clothing..

But soon enough Auguste is having to exercise tons of self-control as his little brother's nubile pre-pubescent body is revealed lace after lace.

Even at this new obstacle, Auguste ends up stripping down to nothing anyway and being very thankful that the water is icy cold.

They end up splashing each other and having tons of fun playing tag in the shallow end, Auguste managing to let his hands linger with each tag he places without Laurent thinking anything of it and after, Auguste picks up his little brother in his arms and walks with him over to the deep end and dunks him under, giving him an excuse to run his hands through his brother's wet hair.

Sometimes Auguste couldn't help himself and tells his brother that he has such golden hair and such sparkly blue eyes but Laurent simply complimented him back, telling him shyly how big and strong he was, and how muscular he was, and how wavy and thick his hair was and that his eyes were just as sparkly a blue as Laurent’s.

Auguste took initiative and completely dismissed his brother’s attendants and nannies, deciding to take it upon himself to attend his brother for any of his needs. His father applauded his desire to strengthen a bond with his little brother through the usage of natural care while his mother frowned and simply warned him not to coddle his brother too much. 

Auguste was grateful. He didn't need those extra eyes all around and in the future, it would be easier to coax Laurent into certain acts if there was a guarantee that they would not be easily interrupted at any point in the day.

He takes to unlacing Laurent out of his embroidered little doublets and trousers and helping him into his soft cotton nightshirt and tucking him into bed as well as staying with him every night until he falls asleep. His brother would always turn towards him and fall asleep close to whatever edge Auguste was perched upon, naturally inclined to depend on his big brother who always protected and cared for him and made him happy. 

Sometimes Auguste would linger, touching Laurent's face or going further, reaching into his shirt to touch the warm, young skin before retreating.

One time, he was bold enough to reach under the covers carefully to brush his fingers against the silky skin of Laurent's hairless thighs and had to withdraw his hand to keep from squeezing the firm flesh.

Still he always leaves. It would be suspicious if he didn't. Though he sleeps in the same wing nearby and sometimes Laurent would come wake him up in the night sniffling because of a nightmare and Auguste would enfold his sweet young brother in his arms and hold his little body against his own and use the sheet to wipe off Laurent's hot face. He was always careful to put Laurent in a place where he wouldn’t feel any hardness from Auguste pressing against him and ask about it. Auguste knew it was not time yet. 

Auguste wouldn't bathe Laurent too often because he couldn’t draw too much suspicion so he only gave himself an exception when Laurent was upset or when he wanted to talk with Laurent or when 'Laurent wanted to spend more time with him' which was what Auguste would tell the attendants. Laurent never minded because he idolized his big brave brother and wanted to spend more time with him and always felt so special that he made his amazing golden brother happy.

Auguste used bath time as an excuse to touch Laurent extensively and map out all of the places he could mark as his own. He poured oil and soap on his hands and ran them all over his little brother's body and didn't leave a single section unwashed, even reaching in between his brother's legs and clinically washing his genitals, taking care not to be too handsy with the sensitive flesh and running a hand between the small white cheeks over the pink hole, too furled and tiny for even his pinky finger.

Auguste seemed to like Laurent's hair a lot, running fingers through it and massaging soap into his scalp slowly and deeply, sending Laurent into a trance like state of relaxation. Sometimes Auguste would also dig his fingers into Laurent's shoulders and back muscles, sending shivers down Laurent's spine and goosebumps along his arms even though the water was steaming with heat.

Auguste would even pay attention to Laurent's feet, teasingly telling him that the feet touch the ground so much, they needed even more thorough washing and Laurent would giggle and wriggle when Auguste squeezed at the inside of Laurent's sensitive sole or danced wet fingers along the pads of his toes but always, his feet are rubbed pink at the end of bathtime with Auguste.

Auguste was thorough and washed behind Laurent's ears, scrubbing at the crevice and taking delicate care with the inside of Laurent's cartridge, dragging his nail along the outside of the rim and pinching the inside with another finger, sending delightful sensations throughout Laurent's body.

When Auguste beckoned Laurent to rise out of the water once he's done, Laurent always unthinkingly obeyed, holding out his arms expectantly for Auguste to wrap the towel around him and dry him off.

When the two of them came back from one of their long horse rides, Auguste sometimes massaged Laurent's throbbing legs afterwards in their rooms, telling Laurent to strip out of his trousers so Auguste could use oil on Laurent's skin, rubbing the tight muscles with persistence.

Every time Auguste would hit a particularly sore spot, his little brother groaned above him and Auguste has to internally force himself to focus on the task at hand.

Auguste remembers when he could still pick Laurent up and hold him on his hip, he would let his hand slip down so it would cup his little brother's perky bottom and keep a firm grip with his other hand on the bend in Laurent's knee. Later he would find out how tantalizing that little section was, with its plump little bit of flesh cradled on both sides by the finest, thinnest bones, the whole thing barely spanning the length of Auguste’s longest finger. 

Auguste was careful about his kisses, leaving them on Laurent's head, cheeks, forehead, and the backs of his hands, never kissing his palm or lingering too close to his lips.

Laurent's little feet were as soft as petals from heel to toe and unmarred yet by calluses even though they rode in boots nearly daily. His hands were not the same, already roughened by calluses from climbing trees and gathering wildflowers and fruit, gripping the reins of his horse.

Auguste often found himself lost in thought about Laurent's neck, especially when it was hidden by the high collar of his Veretian jacket, the veins of his vulnerable throat and the smooth white expanse of his nape.

Auguste habitually took Laurent out to the gardens where Laurent oftentimes fell asleep on his lap. 

It is around Laurent’s twelfth birthday, close to Auguste’s goal that their mother finds them in such a pose, Auguste running his fingers through Laurent's hair, letting his fingers linger possessively on his little brother's rosy cheeks.

Auguste looked up and saw her at the last moment when she turned away in a whirl of green skirts to hurry back into the palace. 

She didn't know what to do and knew she can not convince Aleron of it and knew it would end messily so she attempts to confront Auguste about it but he kept excusing himself to run off with his precious little brother.

Then she begins to hallucinate. 

And for some reason her oldest son takes to visiting her more often, even serving her meals himself.

Her husband strokes her hair, tells her she’s babbling, that she sounds as if she is speaking a different language. He tuts and gently cradles her, shushing her like a baby. 

She stumbles into furniture and cries out at the pain in her stomach. She asks for her little boy. They say she is too unwell, she might hurt him. She cries out that he is already being hurt. She can see through the blurriness of her vision the nurses looking at each other in concern. 

She keeps refusing her medicine to the point that Aleron is begging her through tears to take it. She refuses. She says it was poisoned. When Auguste comes in to gently draw his father away, she shrieks obscenities at him, calling him wicked, monster, terrible. Aleron sobs into Auguste’s shoulder. 

When she’s coughing up blood, they bring Laurent to her and she protests. He’s too young, she says. Her little boy, whose hand barely fits in her own and whose eyes are crystalline with tears. Beautiful eyes. Her eyes. Her husband hushes her again, saying she is dying, he wants to see her. She protests again. He is too young. She looks at her older son who has a hand on Laurent’s shoulder. Her golden boy, she thought. He only smiles sadly at her. 

Then everything is dark and she is helpless, the last thing she looked upon being her firstborn son smiling. 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave a comment as long as you're polite or critiquing.


End file.
